


Musical Piracy

by BelovedCreation



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedCreation/pseuds/BelovedCreation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Killian Jones enters his high school’s battle of the bands, no one believes he can make it, least of all his competition. But with a few little white lies and some creative music piracy, perhaps he can end up winning the competition - and the girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Musical Piracy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic inspired by a little-known web mini-series, Little White Lie, starring Darren Criss of A Very Potter Musical and Glee fame. Watching the webseries is not a prerequisite to reading and understanding this fic.

_Killian_  
Killian  
You are one in a million

He’s lost in her voice, the way those lovely lips curl around the syllables of his name and the twinkle in her eye as she strums on his guitar.

(In his bedroom.)

(Singing a song about him.)

***

But we should probably start at the beginning.

***

Killian Jones is destined to be a rock star. That’s one of those things you just   _know_ , like how water is wet and peanut butter is God’s gift to the world and Emma Swan is destined to be with Killian Jones.

(Okay, that last one hasn't been proven yet, but it could be. You know, if he ever actually  _talked_  to her.)

Killian soothes himself with the thought that he’s spending his time doing important, meaningful things to further his musical talent and prepare for his inevitable stardom.

“Killian, are we done practicing yet?”

Belle plays several forlorn notes on her bass and gives him an impatient look. “Its kind of silly to keep “practicing,” as you call it,” she continues, using mocking air quotes,” if you’re just going to stare at the street and wish we had more band members.”

“Sorry love,” he apologizes, shaking his head to clear it, setting his guitar on its stand, and flopping on the dated couch in their rehearsal space (aka his parents’ garage). “I was thinking about the battle of the bands next week.”

“Thinking about how we’re going to lose you mean,” she sighs, joining him with a squeaky bounce, curls bobbing. “Neal and the Bros win every year.”

“Except this year. This year we are going to blow them all out of the water.”

 ***

"Well look who washed up.”

Killian feels his jaw clench and he takes a deep breath through his nose to keep his temper in check, despite the familiar mocking tone of the voice right behind him.

_Ignore him ignore him ignore him ignore him_

“Hey Jones, I was talking to you.”

A hand shoves his shoulder (hard too) and he can’t ignore him any more, finally turning to look in the smirking face of Neal Cassidy, former best friend and band mate.

“You can’t honestly think you have a chance, do you?” Neal continues. Now the entire line of musicians signing up for the battle of the bands is staring, waiting for fists to fly. “Because Belle is decent enough, but we all know you’re a shit musician.”

“Fuck off, Neal,” Killian mutters.

Neal’s eyes flash but before he can throw a punch his friend Will Scarlet steps forward to whisper something in Neal’s ear. He chuckles and fire is tamped down. Killian can feel the ease of the tension that had built.

“Go ahead and sign up,” Neal grunts, stepping away to write his name on the sheet. “But we all know that Captain Beauty is going to lose. There’s a reason no one at this school wants to be in your band.”

Killian nods and tries to let the remarks slide off his back, choosing not to dwell on Neal’s implications and their own history.

“We will just have to see about that,” he whispers to himself when Neal is far gone. “We will just have to see.”

***

He makes 100 posters advertising auditions for Captain Beauty and he and Belle spend all afternoon putting them up around town. He is sweaty and worn by the time they make it to their final destination, the music shop.

_Golden Records_

He pushes open the door, Belle at his heels, and he can immediately hear someone playing the guitar, perhaps in the back. The person has talent, easily running complicated riffs and he knows, instantly, that this is someone who should be playing in his band. His heart beats a bit faster, remembering why he put off walking into Golden Records all day long and the fear of rejection pulses through his veins, warm and debilitating.

“I think I shall head to the back of the store,” he mutters, clutching the few remaining posters tighter, no doubt wrinkling them horribly. He slips away before Belle can question his sudden interest in that particular corner.

Golden Records is the reason Killian started playing and why he practices his instruments for at least two hours every day. There’s a crackle in the air, an electricity that music gives him. Absentmindedly he runs his hand along the rows of CD jewel cases and record sleeves and sheet music as he makes his way towards the mysterious (and very talented) musician. He’s being lured, like Pan with his pipe, but Killian finds he doesn't mind. He’s not even particularly jealous, despite the superior skill being demonstrated. Just to be near the magic of music is enough for him.

When he peeks his head around a corner and sees a familiar head of blonde curls, his breath catches in his throat.

(Is he even surprised?)

(Frankly, yes he is. He’s never heard her play like  _this_  before. She is always placed in the back of the group with the same cord progressions over and over again while pompous Neal fuckin’ Cassidy sings in the front makes moony eyes at all the girls in the crowd. So yes, he’s surprised. Surprised that all of her obvious talent is being wasted on simplistic, shallow music.)

Emma Swan is not paying him any attention, too engrossed in the beautiful acoustic guitar on her lap and quietly singing words he doesn't recognize.

 _You think I’m a princess in a tower,_  
but I can show you my power  
make you all cower  
Yeah yeah  
I’ll scale these walls myself  
I don’t need your stupid help  
No no no no

“Emma Swan?”

Belle’s soft whisper at his shoulder makes him start and he has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from crying out.

“Do you think we should invite her to the audition?”

Killian ducks into another row and drags Belle with him. “No,” he hisses. “We can’t just ask Emma Swan to audition for our band. That would be bad form.”

“Bad form?” She cants her head and gives him a look of utter confusion.

“To just walk up to someone and ask them to join your bloody band is horrible form,” he whisper-rants, hand flailing and completely aware of how ridiculous he must sound.

(Gods above he has it bad for Emma Swan if the thought of talking to her has him worked into such a panic.)

“Well, we could ask Neal Cassidy instead,” Belle continues dryly, raising an eyebrow and focusing on something behind him. He turns to see Emma and Neal walking toward them, arm in arm, disgusting looks of adoration plastered across their inch-from-one-another faces. 

***

Now you see why he never talked to Emma Swan?

Exactly.


End file.
